


Conversations with the Dead

by Jennifew



Category: Elisabeth
Genre: Gen, Musical, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-18
Updated: 2008-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-01 23:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennifew/pseuds/Jennifew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Beth Winter in Yuletide 2007.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Conversations with the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Beth Winter in Yuletide 2007.

**I. 27 May 1872**

Archduchess Sophie opened her eyes and blinked in confusion; she felt stronger than she had in years. Her glance passed dismissively over the young man standing by her bedside, whom she presumed to be a servant, and fell with contempt on the woman seated near the foot of the bed.

"Why are you here?" she snapped, seeing no need for even a veneer of politeness given that they were alone. The ungrateful girl certainly had never earned any such consideration. "Where's Franzi?"

"She can't hear you. As for your son, he is asleep; as is the rest of your family. Given the length of the vigil they had already maintained, a break was considered necessary. Your daughter-in-law, however, refused to retire so long as you yet lived."

Startled at being addressed out of turn by someone who surely had no right to do so, Sophie turned to look at the stranger. "I beg your pardon? Just who do you think you are?"

"I am...someone who has watched your treatment of Elisabeth over the years and who is pleased you can no longer torment her. I am someone who cannot be intimidated by your former rank or position, because it was trivial and fleeting.

"I am someone into whose power you have now passed, and I recommend you be grateful I shall likely forget about you shortly."

"This is outrageous! How dare you talk to me like that?"

The intruder had the impertinence to raise an eyebrow at her imperiously. "I think you'll soon find that your demands carry no weight any longer." A movement in the corner of her eye caught Sophie's attention, and she watched in astonishment as Elisabeth rose and cautiously approached the bed, ignoring the man completely. She was just about to try addressing her daughter-in-law once more when he spoke again. "Your time is up. We must go."

Then he had the audacity to lay a hand on her arm. She was about to protest the indignity when the room began to disappear, surprising her into silence.

* * *

**II. 30 January 1889**

Crown Prince Rudolf had shared many kisses in his life, with many people--some would say more than he ought--but none had been like this. Here he was, surrounded by Mary's blood, her lifeless body lying next to his own, and his senses were reeling from a kiss that left him feeling not just light-headed, but light-bodied as well.

He looked up at the familiar face of the mysterious friend whose occasional presence in his life went all the way back to Rudolf's childhood, though as far as Rudolf could recall his appearance had never changed over the years. Now he was looking back at him with a calm, patient expression as he pulled back slightly. Slowly, Rudolf sat up, needing a moment to take in what had just happened.

"So," he said, voice shakier than he would have expected. "It is done. I believe I am...grateful to have had you here. Knowing a friend was nearby made it easier to do what had to be done."

"It is as I always promised: you needed me, and I came."

"Yes." He took a deep, if unnecessary, breath, hoping it would help him remain matter-of-fact. "Mary?"

"She departed already. It is just the two of us here."

Rudolf nodded acknowledgement. He suspected he didn't have much longer either, though he appreciated this opportunity to grow accustomed to the idea of being dead. The fact that there was still a "him" to do anything whatsoever struck him then, and he chuckled wryly.

"I suppose the Empress would be pleased to know she was correct after all, at least insofar as concerns the continuation of the spirit after death," he observed.

"Would you like me to deliver a message to her?"

"Tell her--" There was so much he wanted to say, so much he'd always longed to say, it was hard to know where to begin. On the other hand, she had not taken any interest in him since he was a boy, and none of his previous attempts to reach her had made an impression. What would be the point of trying again now? "Tell the Empress nothing," he decided, sighing in resignation. "If she asks, which I doubt, you may say I did what I had to, if you wish, but everything I had left to say is in the letter."

"Very well." Was it his imagination, or was there a note of smugness in those two simple words, a glint of malicious satisfaction in his companion's eyes? Though what reason he might have to be pleased at the rejection of his offer, Rudolf couldn't imagine.

"Come with me now, Rudolf." The voice was gentler now, almost sympathetic. This was the voice he remembered from childhood, all-too-familiar from that year he'd been 'educated' nearly to death. "It is time to take you home."

Trusting completely, Rudolf placed his hand in his friend's, holding his gaze as the room faded around them.

* * *

**III. 21 November 1916**

Franz Joseph knew he had been working himself harder than he ought--not that there was much in the way of actual work he was allowed to take on anymore. He had little choice; there was no other way he knew how to be. Despite having had most of his meaningful responsibilities stripped from him over the years, he was still Emperor. That had to mean something.

Lately, however, maintaining the schedule he'd kept to for decades had grown increasingly difficult. He was tired most of the time and could barely make out the words on the documents he still felt it his duty to read. And now he couldn't seem to shake this wretched illness that had been plaguing him all month.

It was therefore little surprise to wake and recall that he'd been talked into retiring earlier than usual, though he was somewhat confused to see Valerie holding his hand and crying. He tried to reach out to comfort her, but a hand stopped his arm.

"There is nothing you can do for her now," a strange voice said gently. He turned to see a vaguely familiar young man standing on the opposite side of the bed from his daughter.

"Do I know you?"

"Perhaps."

The reply was less than helpful, but Franz Joseph was too distracted to notice, trying as he was to recall where he had seen the man before. A vague memory surfaced at last, but...that was impossible. His eyes widened.

"I see you do in fact remember."

"Years ago...I had nightmares. You were in them. How can that be?"

"I am everywhere, and nowhere."

Again Franz Joseph ignored the enigmatic response, lost in the recollection of his old nightmares. "You threatened to take Sisi from me," he accused.

"And so I did, though she was never truly yours to begin with. I set her free, as promised; she is happier now. Do not think that because it is now time for me to come for you, you will be able to reclaim her," he warned, his voice deviating from its calm for the first time.

"All I have wished for these many years is to see her again," the Emperor admitted wistfully.

"I believe that can be arranged," the nightmare man replied, once again lightly grasping his arm. The prospect of finally seeing Elisabeth, together with the relief of being freed from a world he no longer understood and a body he could no longer command, made going with this stranger the easiest thing in the world.


End file.
